It was in Leicester Square that Charles saw him getting out of a taxi-cab to enter a hall where a professional billiard match was in progress.

He paused midway at the sight of Charles, exclaiming: "Why, Tur--" The second syllable of the name was nipped off in mid-air, and the outstretched arm was dropped, as the patron of billiards took in the cut of his former friend's coat.

He gazed at the ill-fitting garment with a kind of astonished animosity, and then his puzzled look shot upwards to the face surmounting it, no doubt with the feeling that he may have been deceived by a chance resemblance.

Charles went past him without a sign of recognition, but he felt that the other was still staring after him.
Another day a street musician regarded him curiously from behind a barrel organ which he was turning with the lifeless celerity of one without interest in the sounds created by the process.

His card of appeal--"Wanted in 1914; not wanted now"-- helped Charles to recall him as a soldier of his old regiment.